I Still Live With My Parents

Basement Suite Suits Fine

IN MY PARENTS’ BASEMENT– Rod Cameron is thirty years old. He has a decent job, he has his health, and he has a few close friends. Rod doesn’t smoke or drink, and he has never been in trouble with the law. For all appearances, Rod seems like a normal guy. But that’s where the smooth patina on the surface of his life ends. Why? Because Rod has been hiding a terrible secret. He still lives with his parents.

Rod Cameron’s booth provides education to those people not aware of the problems facing pathetic grown men who still live at home with their parents.

For years Rod held on to his filial fears, keeping them buried deep inside, ready to burst like an overshaken can of ginger ale. He didn’t know where he could turn, or who he could talk to about his demoralizing living arrangements.

“I wanted to share my suffering, but I didn’t know who would understand,” said Rod. “I looked for forums on the Internet but no one was willing to talk about their household situation. I thought: ‘Am I the only one in the world over the age of thirty who is afflicted with the insufferable curse of living at home with mom and pop?’ ”

Rod was torn. He was happy to have a low-rent roof over his head, but he was too embarrassed to tell anyone about it.

“At the time it was better to tell people that I was homeless,” said Rod. “At least that was something people could respect. Out on the streets, living from meal to meal–that takes courage. But telling someone that you’re still under mom and dad’s roof, mooching leftovers ten years after you should’ve vacated is something you don’t like to brag about.”

“Eventually I sucked-up enough courage to start my own web page for desperate men with desperate lives, www.internationalsocietyformenwhostilllivewiththeirparents.org, and the traffic went through the roof–or through the basement suite ceiling as it were. At last I was able to talk with other unweaned men who still had their mothers doing their laundry for them.”

Rod has since shed the thin cheesecloth covering that veiled his humiliation. He has faced his demons, stood up to his deepest fears, and learned to live with the 11:00 curfew his mother has set for him.

“I still live with my parents,” said Rod solemnly. “It’s a phrase uttered by a million sad and lonely men, often accompanied by feelings of guilt and shame. Yes, most of us are probably slacking layabouts who are too lazy to cook our own dinners, but at least we’re out of the closet–mom’s hall closet that is.”

Rod isn’t afraid to talk about it anymore. He no longer regrets not leaving the nest when he was younger, at a time when all his friends were moving into campus dorms, rundown apartments, and semi-condemned warehouse lofts.

His decision to stay at home, and save his money for “when he was ready” to strike out on his own was noble. But after a time, the comfort levels rose to such a point where moving out wasn’t a feasible option for a man without dependents or a need for independence. It just didn’t make sense to venture out into a world of greed and reckless capitalism. “Why move out when everything I need is right here at home?”

Sure, Rod has never known the love of a woman, he’s never hosted a party, and females shun him because of his “momma’s boy” persona, but at least he’s able to communicate these challenges to the millions of pitiful men who share the same problem.

“Five years ago, I wouldn’t have had the courage to talk about my ‘situation’,” said Bob Daniels, a 35-year-old bachelor from Wisconsin who still lives in the spare bedroom of his parents’ suburban home. “But thanks to ISFMWSLWTP I realize I’m not the only middle-aged loser on the planet who has his mother tidy up after him. I take some small comfort in that knowledge. Please kill me.”



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